Amongst the Centaur Herd
by Wolfmilk
Summary: The stars have spoken and the centaurs must abide by them. When centaurs take Harry away from the doorstep, he will be raised as a centaur and follow their beliefs. How will the rest of the wizarding world react? Follow Harry as he deals with loss, betrayal, prejudice, ignorance.
1. Prologue

**Amongst the centaur herd**

**Prologue**

**DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I own nothing save this fanfiction's plot and some OC characters.**

**SUMMARY: The stars have spoken and the centaurs must abide by them. When centaurs take Harry away from the doorstep, he will be raised as a centaur and follow their beliefs. How will the rest of the wizarding world react? Follow Harry as he deals with loss, betrayal, prejudice, ignorance.**

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Magorian, the lead centaur, tossed a bundle of sage into a crackling fire in the middle of a secluded patch of raw dirt. The brilliant flame flared as the herbs sailed into the pile of burning wood. A column of black smoke billowed harshly into the air. Frowning, the centaur stared intently at the fumes and shuffled his hooves with irritation.

"Mar has dimmed considerably... and yet Pluto is closer to us than it should be," He muttered darkly to himself.

A red haired centaur trotted forward towards the fire and gently sprinkled mallowsweet petals over the fumes and instantly the flame subsided. The smoke faded into a glimmering silver and curled lazily into the sky.

"So is Jupiter, my lead." He whispered with a doleful tone as he gazed up into the sky.

"Ronan," A third voice warned threateningly, as a black bodied centaur stepped into the small ring of light provided by the flames. "Do not interfere with our lead's findings."

Ronan lowered his eyes and focused on the black centaur, unfazed by the harsh tone. "Bane," He greeted with a neutral voice. "There is a great stirring. Of light against evil."

Magorian seemed to ignore the pair as he looked intently at the slowly moving wisps of smoke. Tossing his head back, he fixed his eyes on the stars. To the ordinary human, it would seem almost as if the lead centaur was bored but Magorian's flickering eyes betrayed his conflicting emotions.

"A dark presence has dulled and yet there have been extreme evil happenings tonight," he said, loud enough for the two other centaurs to hear. He paused for a minute, frowning. "Dark soul magic?"

"A horcrux," Bane said with a low voice.

Ronan lowered his head with respect. "My lead, Jupiter is closer than ever. Extreme evil has occurred but there is also extreme good," He declared.

When he was answered by silence from both centaurs, Ronan sighed and directed the conversion subject to something that had discussed many times before.

"In the south, the stars speak of a great human foal. Do you not remember the prophecy we read in the stars?"

"Which one?" Bane asked with a dark expression.

Ronan stared at Bane. He then cleared his throat and spoke in Equine, a horse language.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..." _Ronan recited. Magorian shuffled uneasily while Bane remained motionless.

"While it would appear to us that the stars have focused mainly on '_Dark Lord will mark him as his equal' _tonight, I fail to see how this has concerns us as a centaur herd. The prophecy is mainly concerned about a 'Dark Lord' and his possible defeat. Centaurs were not involved," Bane sneered.

"Bane, this Dark Lord refers to Voldemort – the beast who had slaughtered many of our kin."

"And?"

"Today, he was stopped. The war was over. Hence Mars' dimming. And... a human foal is responsible for this."

"What's your point?" Bane asked with a bored tone.

"We owe this human foal a life debt of our entire herd!" Ronan exclaimed angrily as he stamped a hoof down in the dirt.

"We do not," Bane hissed at him. His eyes flickered briefly to Magorian who chose to remain silent throughout the conversation.

"To the point then. As we speak, the foal will be given to a non-magical home where he will be neglected and abused. Sending him to a safe home is the least we can do for him."

"And where will this be?"

Ronan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, bracing himself for Bane's anger. "Last night, there were 35 visible stars in the constellation Sagittarius." He said slowly. "Tonight, there are 36."

For a moment, Bane was silent. Then, his eyes widened with disbelief as he registered what this meant for the centaur herd.

"We will not raise a human within our midst!" He bellowed, rearing up onto his hind legs and aiming a few kicks as Ronan who backed out of the way.

"Bane!" Magorian said harshly. Instantly, the angry centaur subsided but he paced back and forth in the meadow, shooting Ronan murderous looks.

"The stars speak of it, my lead," Ronan said to Magorian, once he was sure Bane wasn't going to attack him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Ronan replied firmly and met the lead centaur with determined eyes. Magorian pondered for a moment before making a decision. He looked towards the stars again.

"Bane, I signal for a gathering."

"But my lead–" Bane began to protest.

"_Now_."

Submitting to Magorian's authority, Bane bowed his head with respected and cantered off to summon other centaurs.

Ten minutes later, twelve centaurs stood in a ring around the fire. Normally they would have stood tall and proud but tonight was different. There was a nervous tension in the forest air. It was clear that they were agitated – shuffling hooves, swinging tails, tense expressions.

"Bane. Antol. Kauto. Ronan. Firenze..." Magorian greeted formally and bowed to each respective centaur. He did the same to the other centaurs in the ring.

"Magorian," They chorused back.

"The stars tonight have exposed to us that a great victory has occurred. As most of you would realise, they tell us of the falling of the Dark Lord, who calls himself Voldemort." Unlike most wizards and witches, none of centaurs cringed or flinched at the mention of the name – they merely stood in solemn silence.

"The cause of the downfall of the Dark Lord is credited to one young human foal. We have lost a great number to the Dark Lord. We owe this a foal a life debt."

"That's lie!" Bane shouted.

This outcry prompted other centaurs to continue in his steed to protest and object to this claim.

"Untruth! Misreading! A centaur does not owe anything to any human! A foal no less!" They cried.

"SILENCE!" Magorian bellowed and reared onto his hind legs. Immediately, the centaurs quietened although there were some dark mutterings under their breaths.

"The stars have spoken! Jupiter burns bright before our very eyes. Do you not see Pluto dimming? Or have your eyes become one of a human's?" Magorian asked viciously. It was common knowledge that centaur eyesight was more advanced than humans' since their eyes had adapted to stargazing.

"We will bring this human into our midst and teach him the ways of the centaur. We will guide his paths and bring him to understand that-"

"Fate is not to be trifled with! As lead centaur, it is your responsibility to understand this." Antol, a golden haired centaur with a cream coloured pelt, quietly spoke up, interrupting Magorian.

Magorian leveled a glare at Antol for his disrespect and interruption.

"This is not fate we are changing. It is the wellbeing of the human foal. Should we influence his fate then so be it. It will not be our intention. Raised away as he well be, he will be subject to the narrow-minded abuse and neglect of non-magic humans. Watch."

Magorian shuffled forward to the fire, which was now a dying flame, and rekindled it with a sharp blow. Lifting a bundle of sage up into the air more all the centaurs to see, he tossed it into the fire. The smoke burst forth from the now-burning sage and the fumes formed intricate symbols in the air.

"The Rune of Neglect... The Rune of Abuse... The Rune of Fear... The Rune of Hatred..." The centaur said slowly as he observed the symbols. "This is what will happen if we let the foal be."

Ronan stepped forward and repeated, "Last night, there were 35 visible stars in the constellation Sagittarius." He said slowly. "Tonight, there are 36."

"_Raised with the ways of the centaur,_" Magorian chanted in Equine as he sprinkled mallowsweet into the fire, copying Ronan's actions from earlier.

Instantly the flame turned into the shade of white and the symbols in the air twisted into new ones.

"The Rune of Love... The Rune of Knowledge... The Rune of Parenthood... And the Rune of Childhood," Magorian intoned.

"The Rune of Power is present also," Kauto, a white centaur, whispered.

"So it is decided. We will raise the boy with our herd," Magorian declared, giving Kauto a sharp look. None of the centaurs objected to this decision, apparently all convinced by the fire that it was the right decision – all but one.

"Bane, summon a thestral. There is task that must be completed tonight," Magorian commanded. Bane's jet black eyes narrowed with distrust and disagreement. Nevertheless, he abided by Magorian's order and cantered away from the scene.

And an hour later, a skeletal thestral landed on the porch of Number 4, Privet Drive just as an old wizard and witch Disapparated away. The thestral lowered its reptilian head down and pulled back the blanket covers to expose a baby human with a lighten bolt scar on his forehead. With a surprisingly gentle toss, the toddler was put onto the back of the thestral and the pair flew away from the dark suburban street.

The next morning Petunia Dursley would open her front door to find a pile of blankets. For a few moments, she will wonder why and how it got there but will dispose of the blankets with no further thought. The Dursley family will grow up without the presence of, what in their eyes, was an unnatural freak.

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Albus Dumbledore sighed heavily as he collapsed onto his chair in the headmaster office. Weaving layer after layer of wards at a muggle area was tiresome work. The Blood Wards were extremely difficult, even for a great wizard like himself. To add to his increasing irritation, the Wizengamot had requested several meetings concerning the fortunate demise of Tom Riddle. The Hogwarts headmaster rubbed with temples to ease a growing headache.

"Are you sure that Harry is safe with those muggles?" Minerva McGonagall asked for the umpteenth time, oblivious to Albus' clear fatigue. The Transfiguration professor nervously wrung her hands on her robe and stared at Dumbledore with a worried expression.

"Minnie, be rest assured. They are Harry's only living relatives. I have even employed a Squib to watch over him," Albus told her, the familiar twinkle absent from his eye.

"But are you sure that there aren't any other living Potters? Harry could take an inheritance test at Gringotts to show his ancestry. The Potters are a very noble house and would have no doubt had an extensive family. James Potter once mentioned a second cousin from his mother's side to me–"

"The Blacks?"Albus cut her off.

"Most definitely not! Perhaps Charles Potter, James' father could have had nieces or nephews."

"Charles Potter's sister, once removed, married a Lestrange."

"Impossible! Charles never had a sister!"

"It isn't a well-known fact that Charles had a younger sister who was a Squib. She married Lestrange for money and status after she was disinherited. Lestrange married for blood purity." Albus explained with barely disguised impatience.

Minerva's mouth snapped shut. When it came to Death Eaters or Dark families, she was fiercely against them since she had suffered the loss of two beloved nephews in the previous war.

"If it reassures you, I have collected a few blood samples from Harry to activate these instruments." Albus lifted a silver instrument, which looked vaguely like a silver magnification glass, from his desk."This monitors Harry's physical wellbeing. While this alerts me if any magic is performed inside the household." He lifted up a pendulum-like instrument that gave off a whirring sound as Minerva critically inspected it.

"That's very nice and all but shouldn't Harry be raised in a magical family? That way he can grow up in our world. I hear the Bones family are willing to adopt him."

"No. He will be pestered by fan mail and hero worship. It's best to let him grow up away from all that."

"The Bones would never let that get into his head. But what concerns me more is that he wouldn't be trained and ready enough, should You-Know-Who return..." The Scottish woman trailed off, the horror of Voldemort returning clearly scaring her.

"Call Voldemort by his name, please. Or Tom Riddle if you must." Albus reprimanded her sharply, effectively avoiding the question.

Before Minerva could speak any further, Albus rose from his desk and made to depart the office. "Now, would you be so kind to let an old man have his rest, Minnie," He said as he walked away to the Headmaster Quarters, retiring for the night.

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Underneath the canopy of the Forbidden Forest, there was a curious centaur colony gathered around a strange being who'd entered their midst. They stood in between gnarled roots of a wizened oak tree which casted an eerie shadow over the baby boy. The forest was completely dark except for s_mall spots of dappled moonlight which had been filtered into the forest fog._

A young centaur foal hid behind his mother's hind legs. "What did that thestral bring that foal, ma? That centaur doesn't have any hind legs! Is it sick? What happened to it?" A barrage of questions sprung forth from the youngster's mouth.

"Hush _kia_, it is not a centaur. It is a human," the mother centaur whispered with undisguised awe.

This declaration prompted another wave of questions from the foal but was quickly stopped by a sharp spank on the foal's rump by his uncle, Firenze.

"Let our lead Magorian, explain," He reprimanded.

Half a dozen centaur foals resided in the herd and they all had questions concerning the newest member of the family but they didn't speak for fear of being spanked like their unfortunate friend, Burlip. The twenty other adult centaurs who had not attended the gather also had the same questions but were wise enough not to speak out of turn.

Magorian thumped a hoof to the ground for attention, since all interest had been directed towards the baby boy who lay on a soft pile of dried grass.

"The Gathering of Elders have Seen the future of our kindred from the stars tonight. We Saw a new fate for this foal. This foal is to be raised with us. He will join our herd and be accepted as a member of our colony. I cannot answer all questions, since the moon, stars and planets remain unclear." Magorian paused to consider something for a moment before continuing.

"But what is clear is that this foal, that goes by the name, Harry James Potter, will join our herd. I expect each and every one of you to welcome him and treat him as if he were a centaur. Be rest assured that Harry will not remain two legged while he is with us, as there will be rituals performed to convert him into a centaur."

"But as a young foal, Harry's magical core is unstable and once it is stabilised, when he has reached 16 seasons old, he will become a true centaur."

"Ronan! He is now your responsibility. You and your mare, Aconite, will raise him as your own."

The two centaur couple stepped forward in the darkness of the shadow and Aconite, Ronan's wife, lift up the baby boy in her arms.

"Oh Ronan, he is such a sweet foal for a human," She crooned gently and nuzzled the sleeping boy.

Ronan wasn't so sure. He had promised to be the foster father for the human only because nobody else had volunteered. _Harry will be handicapped by his lack of four legs_, he thought, worried for his new son.

The centaur colony departed the family and resumed their nightly activities, some with excitement, and others with uncertainty. And one with anger. Bane was quietly fuming in the back of a willow tree.

_No matter what the rest of the herd thinks, I will not accept that human as part of the colony, _he vowed.

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**What do you guys think? Please read and review! **

**One question though, do you want Dumbledore to be the grandfatherly type or the manipulative type? **

**I'll be okay with each but I want this fic to suit your tastes.**


	2. Hunts and Rituals

**Amongst the centaur herd**

**Hunts and Rituals**

**DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I own nothing save this fanfiction's plot and some OC characters.**

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Within the Forbidden Forest, if one would trek as far as into the heart of the forest, they would be greeted with the sight of no less than seven centaur foals playing in a secluded glade. Amongst the foals would be a small wizard named Harry Potter. The boy would have been living with the centaurs for a year now.

Living a life of a centaur, was quite demanding for a human boy. As soon as Harry could walk and talk, he was taught the basics of healing, herbology, divination, hunting and ancient runes. Being human, Harry lagged behind his fellow centaurs in education since he found it exceedingly difficult to understand the different concepts which would otherwise make perfect sense to centaurs.

Also, Harry was forbidden from accompanying the centaur hunts. The centaur law decreed that no two-legged was allowed to join any hunts. Since hunts were few and far in between, each event was considered a sacred ritual. Centaurs would watch the heavens above and determine when it was the best time to hunt.

So it was with great worry and concern when on his third birthday, Harry had inadvertently gone on a hunt by his own.

At dusk, when most centaurs begin to wake up, since they are nocturnal, Harry found himself hiking through the forest on his own. He was eager to search for a Flitterbloom – a vine which, when crushed and dried, gave one sweet dreams. For the past few months, Harry had been experiencing the same nightmare over and over again. The bitter memory of the fateful Halloween night of his parents' deaths. The memory was extremely vivid and the green light, which always struck him at the end, gave Harry pounding migraines. He never mentioned this to anyone for fear of being considered a wimp over a simple dream. Weakness was not tolerated in the herd.

After about half an hour of scanning for the distinctive plant, Harry inwardly rejoiced at finally seeing the Flitterbloom entwined around a cherry tree. But before he could use his knife to hack into the plant, he was startled by an unfamiliar roar.

As soon as he spun around to find the noise of sound, he was quickly confronted by a deep slash on the chest. Claw marks raked across Harry's bare skin and it took all of his will power not to cry out in pain. His father always said not to show weakness in the face of danger.

Diving out of the way as a fire ball headed toward his direction, Harry managed to see for the first time what had attacked him. A copper-coloured dragon still baring his teeth and him and it's posture told him that it was ready to strike. Black ridges ran down its spine and two curved horns protruded from its temples. A vicious snarl emerged from the dragon's throat through its serrated gleaming teeth and greenish venom dripped from its fangs. As small puffs of smoke flared out of the dragon's nostrils, Harry did the most instinctive thing he could do. He screamed bloody murder.

The dragon stopped baring its teeth at Harry and cocked its head to the side with a confused expression. It opened its mouth again and Harry was prepared for another fireball but instead of being attacked, he was addressed.

"_You speak the tongue of dragons, human?_"

Harry was too shocked to speak so he just nodded his head dumbly.

"_It's been a while since I have had a pleasant conversation with a Speaker_," the dragon hissed apparently not interested in killing Harry anymore.

Had Harry been raised as a human, he would have asked for more information about his apparent ability to speak with dragons, but centaurs lacked the troublesome curiosity of humans. Being only three years old, Harry stood less than a metre from the ground and he was confronted by a five metre dragon.

He liked to think that he wasn't fooled by the dragon's friendly antics. So with the cutting knife still in his hand, Harry aimed it at the dragon's head. It missed considerably but the dragon got the gist of what the boy was thinking.

"_How dare you try to kill me, human_!" It screeched with anger, rearing up onto its haunches.

Harry was saved by sheer dumb luck when his knife had somehow embedded itself into the heart of the Flitterbloom – which turned out to be not a Flitterbloom in the slightest.

This became clear when the plant lashed out its vines in distress and grabbed onto the nearest living creature, which so happened to be the dragon. In the process, the vines wretched Harry's knife out of its wound and stabbed it into the dragon's thigh.

As the dragon struggled against the plant's clutches, Harry took this opportunity to flee the scene, only to run into a livid Ronan.

"Harry! What in the name of Sagittarius, are you doing?" He neighed with anger.

With Harry's father's wrath being the least of his problems, the relief of some help arriving prompted Harry to fling himself into the arms of his surprised father. He was so comforted by the presence of the centaur that he would've wept if not for a solemn Magorian staring at Harry with an expression of shock mixed with awe.

"Daddy! I wanted a Flitterbloom but there was a dragon and it hurted me and then the Flitterbloom came and killed it and… and-" Harry blabbed hysterically, clinging onto his father.

"Slow down Harry. Start from the beginning. Why do you bear that wound?" Ronan calmly said.

Reluctantly, Harry stepped back at inspected his chest. Now that he had time to look over it, he could tell that it was no mere scratch. The dragon's claws had made a relatively shallow wound but to the three-year-old it was horrific. Blood slowly dripped out of the gash and Harry felt a pang of dizziness from the blood loss.

"A dragon attacked me," He was barely able to say as Ronan placed a calloused hand over his wound. "So I killed it." By running his hand up and down the cut, Ronan had begun healing the boy with his centaur magic. A faint silvery glow illuminated the wound and Harry gasped in surprise at the fading pain. Centaur magic was limited and Ronan would need the help of medical herbs to speed the healing.

Magorian was not convinced that a dragon was in the forest, and much less that a boy could kill it. "Where is it?" He demanded, stamping a hoof onto the dirt.

Harry visibly flinched at the harsh tone and pointed a quivering finger in the direction of the dragon's body.

After letting Harry mount Ronan's back, the centaur trotted towards the scene of the dead dragon.

Magorian was already there.

"A Peruvian Vipertooth," He said hushed voice. "Strangled to death by a Devil's Snare."

Ronan stared at the dead dragon tangled in the vines of the Devil's Snare with bewilderment. It was a repulsive sight. The dragon was violently twisted within the plant and its limbs lay at unnatural angles. Barbs and thorns were embedded in the dragon's scales and yellow pus oozed slowly out of them. But the most horrid aspect of the corpse was that the dragon's unseeing eyes were still wide open and stricken with absolute terror.

Harry shuffled uneasily at the back of Ronan and his breath caught in his throat. "Did I do this?" He asked with a tremor of fear.

Magorian was a skilled hunter and could conclude what had happened. Pulling Harry's knife out of the dragon's flesh, he brought it up to the moonlight and inspected it closely. "You indirectly killed a dragon. By throwing this knife into the Devil's Snare, you had provoked it to lash out onto the nearest creature – the Vipertooth."

Harry could only dumbly stare at Magorian. "I thought that the plant was a Flitterbloom," He murmured timidly.

"Does a Flitterbloom have thorns, boy?" Magorian replied, frustration colouring on his tone. "You were taught better than this."

Harry shrunk back towards Ronan who faced Magorian protectively. The disappointment of the lead centaur cut the boy like a whip.

"The boy has slain a Peruvian Vipertooth. Whether he likes it or not, Harry Potter has hunted. The Vipertooth's body is rightfully his," Magorian said to Ronan.

"My son would have no need of a dragon's body but I'm sure that he will allow his parents to decide what to do with this trophy. Am I right, Harry?"

Harry nodded at his father.

"What was a Vipertooth doing in the forest anyway?"

"Most likely the work of that half-giant, Hagrid."

"Who's that?"

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News of Harry's hunt was kept secret as Ronan and Magorian agreed that it would spark anger and animosity amongst the herd.

The Vipertooth's body was skinned and its remains were left nearby the Devil's Snare for the carnivorous plant to consume.

Ronan gave Harry a cloak made of the dragon's scales which its magical properties would repel any basic hex or curse. Back at the herd, Aconite used some herbs to fully heal Harry's claw marks. After all, centaur magic was almost predominantly used for healing.

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Charles Weasley, a first-year Hogwarts student walked along the edge of the Black Lake and idly levitating a paper origami dragon which Nymphadora Tonks had folded for him earlier in the day. It was well-past the curfew for first-years to be wandering around on the Hogwarts school grounds but at the moment, Charles didn't care much for school rules.

A cold breeze whistled past him from the lake and the red-haired boy pulled his robes closer to himself in an attempt to warm himself up. In his moment of distraction, Charlie's Levitation Charm broke and the paper dragon fluttered onto the grassy ground.

Quickly scooping it up and brushing any stray pieces of dirt from it, Charles scurried in the direction of Hagrid's hut. He trusted the Groundskeeper not to inform any teachers that Charles was outside and past the curfew.

"Hagrid? Hagrid, it's me, Charlie!" He called out as he pounded on the wooden door of the hut.

"Comin', I'm comin'," A gruff voice answered.

The wooden door was pulled backward, emitting a loud creak as it opened and Charles flinched at the cacophony.

"You shouldn' be outta 'ere," Hagrid said distractedly.

"Sorry, Hagrid. I just wanted to pay you a visit and maybe... Hagrid, what's wrong?" Charles exclaimed as he took in Hagrid's red nose, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks.

"Nuthin', I just lost me dragon, Vippy." Hagrid said, viciously rubbing his hands across his eyes as he shut the door behind him.

"Your_ dragon_?"

"Yes. I found meself a Peruvian Vipertooth in the Forbidden Forest. It was bloody beautiful an' I named it Vippy. I don't know where Vippy is now. 'Fraid it may have gotten lost an' hurt itself."

Charles stopped listening when Hagrid said that the Vipertooth in the Forbidden Forest. He couldn't believe his ears.

"But Peruvian Vipertooths live in Peru! What's one doing all the way in Britain?" He cried.

Hagrid blinked and slammed a rosy pink kettle down onto his rickety table.

"Didn't think 'bout that. I really have no idea."

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In ancient times, Centaur Transition was used only for young maidens. Since centaurs mostly bore male young, it was rare to have a more than five or more female centaur mares around in a typical herd. At times, the number of centaur mares became so low that some herds were forced to transform human women into centaurs using Centaur Transition in order to increase their numbers. In modern times, some herds still perform the Centaur Transition ritual albeit very rarely and only in discretion with so many wizarding laws in place.

That night, when Harry turned four, he will undergo the Centaur Transition ritual. It was a risky process since no male human in living memory had ever been needed to be transformed into a full centaur. And also, once a human became a centaur, there was no turning back.

As midnight struck, Ronan lead Harry into the glade. A ring of centaurs already stood there. In the centre of the clearing, there was a bow, a bundle of sage and a lei strung together with mallowsweet. After giving Harry a reassuring pat on the back, Ronan trotted away and joined the ring of centaurs.

Having practiced this thoroughly, Harry knew what to do. With a face void of any emotion, he walked to the objects and stood still. Magorian came forward and bowed stiffly to Harry who returned the bow.

The elder centaur then gathered up the mallowsweet lei and lifted it above Harry's head.

"_Do you, Harry James Potter_, _with your magic_, _agree follow the ways, traditions and beliefs of the centaur race_?" He intoned in Equine.

Harry inclined his head slightly and replied in the same language, "_I do_."

Magorian slipped the lei onto Harry's shoulders.

"_May you find knowledge and happiness_," He said.

The crisp night air seemed to tighten, preparing to release magic on Harry. Immediately, Harry felt a change within himself. He had a sudden euphoric urgegallop through the forest.

The centaur lifted up the sage plants and twirled them about in his hand.

"_Do you, Harry James Potter, with your body, agree have to leave the constraints of human and live your remaining days as a centaur_?"

"_I do_."

Magorian passed the sage into Harry's outstretched hands.

"_ May you remain free in your new journey."_

Harry grasped the plants with both hands and brought them to his chest. The sweet scent of the plant wafted into the air and Harry took a deep breath.

"_Do you, Harry James Potter, with your soul, embrace the path of Divination, seek understanding in Astronomy, and help and heal other with Herbology_?" He continued.

"_I do_."

Harry watched as Magorian held out the bow and handed it to Harry.

"_May you live without sorrow or ignorance_," Magorian chanted and was joined by the other centaurs. In unison, they all traced the Magic Rune, the Body Rune and the Soul Rune into the air.

As soon as Harry touched the bow, he felt a chill in the air as if all warmth had been evaporated. Then, a tingling sensation emerged from the bow, sage and lei and it travelled across Harry's body. A white glow pulsated from him and grew larger and larger.

Suddenly, brilliant flash exploded from Harry and engulfed him temporarily. Instantly, Harry felt pain. Huge amounts of it. Agony burst out from his body and he collapsed onto the soft dirt below. His blood felt alighted with fire and Harry writhed on the floor gasping for breath.

He was only vaguely aware that the other centaurs had cried out with shock and that a pair of gentle warm lifted him up.

'_This wasn't supposed to hurt. Something's wrong_,' Harry thought before falling unconscious.

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Albus woke up with a start from a peaceful dream filled with giant lemon drops and candy. A loud was screech emitted from his office. He quickly Summoned his glasses and ran to his office. A silver disc on his disk was furiously spinning about and Albus was filled with a growing dread.

"Someone's tampering with Harry's soul! Or maybe he is being transformed," The man said to himself as he rushed down stairs. Albus couldn't think for a moment, panic clearly overwhelming him. _If someone was performing a ritual on Harry..._

Rituals are classified as Dark magic by the Ministry since it was a type of soul magic. The main purpose of rituals was to change or alter a person's soul. Either for good or ill purposes. An example of a ritual was a Werewolf's bite. It is intended to change a one's appearance and sanity by distorting and twisting their soul.

Harry Potter should not be exposed to Rituals since he only has his own soul within himself, but also a fragment of Voldmort's. To attempt to change Harry's soul would also result in changing Voldmort's piece as well.

As Albus left the castle and fled onto the school grounds, he turned on his heel and Disapparated into Privet Drive, hoping he wasn't too late to stop whatever was happening to Harry.

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**Oooh, cliff hanger!**

**I'm really happy that this story got such a positive response! **

**Thank you for the reviews I got. Most people so far have voted Dumbledore to be the grandfatherly genial type so I'll go with that, unless I find more people voting otherwise.**

**Please read and review! **


	3. Charlie the Unicorn

**Amongst the centaur herd**

**Charlie the Unicorn**

**DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I own nothing save this fanfiction's plot and some OC characters.**

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Ronan's firm calloused hands gripped onto Harry's chest and waist, pushing most of his centaurian weight down, in an attempt to still the boy's wild thrashing movements. He gritted his teeth as his unconscious son marked a particularly heavy slap against his jaw line. Brief flashes of white light periodically on pulsated from the boy, bringing the illusion of a miniature lighting storm that in cased the forest. The dozen or so centaurs, that were crowded around the struggling father and son, were rapidly casting runes after runes in the air in such a quick succession that a normal human would have only seen blurs of white.

"What's wrong with him?" Ronan shouted, his heart stabbed with anguish over the fate of his son. "Dammit! What's wrong with my son?!"

"His soul rejected the ritual!" Kauto yelled back as his hands glowed from the strain of so much rune magic.

"Lies!" Ronan bellowed, as he dodged a whip like lash from Harry's leg. The boy writhed about and inhuman sounds emerged from between his locked teeth.

"The Horcrux!" Magorian said with realisation. "A piece of the Dark Lord's soul resides with in him."

"Then get it out of him!"

A series of hoof steps signalled the presence of Aconite, as the female centaur cantered out from the crowd to join the rest of her family. A cloud of concern hung over the normally vibrant female as she leant closer to cast a mixture of charms, runes and spells over the boy through tracing a finger over his forehead, chest and back.

All the time, the sporadic flashes of white light grew brighter, at the same time the pain radiating off the boy grew stronger and more intense. Aconite opened one of Harry's eyes to check if his pupil was dilated and riled back in shock as she saw an intense beam of light shooting out of his eye.

However, amongst the flashes of extreme light, there was a black fluid which starkly contrasted to the rest of Harry's body. Upon Harry's sweaty forehead, his lightning bolt scar was oozing out a dark fluid with the consistency of honey.

"We'll have to kill him to destroy the Horcrux," Bane said stonily.

"NO! There must be another way! Tell me another way!" Ronan begged, his eyes gleaming with misery at the prospect of losing his only son. He was at the verge of sobbing over his son, who looked as though he were under the Cruciatus.

"There's sacrificial magic," Bane said. "Blood sacrificial magic can neutralise the Horcrux's resistance and create a barrier from the child's own soul. But who will be the sacrifice?" He asked with fake wonderment, unfazed by the severity of situation.

Unspoken words passed between Aconite and Ronan and within the space of mere seconds, an agreement was made. Producing a silver knife from her belt, Aconite incised a thin cut onto her left hand. Instantly, blood trickled out of the wound and ran down her arm. Aconite gritted her teeth but maintained full focus on her actions.

"I will be the sacrifice," Aconite said as she lifted her bleeding hand and clenched it into a fist. Closing her eyes, Aconite traced a rune onto Harry's blackening scar with a finger damp with her blood.

"_From my blood to yours, I create a barrier_," She said in the ancient language of Equine and her eyes began glowing with similar coloured light.

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Meanwhile, there was great disturbance in a muggle suburb.

Extreme disbelief and fright was present on Albus' normally smiling face. His sunshine yellow cloak whipped about as he latched his fingers onto Petunia's bony shoulders, forcing her to look into his blue eyes.

"_Legilimens_."

There was a flash of a blond plump baby. A flash of Petunia planting a kiss on a whale-sized Vernon. Petunia rocking baby Dudley in his over-decorated crib. Petunia leaving the house. And seeing the remains of the Harry's blanket.

At that point, Albus wrenched himself out of Petunia's mind, causing the both of them pounding headaches, but to which the former did not appear to care. He held his wand out and pointed it into the centre of Petunia's forehead who went cross-eyed trying to keep an eye on it.

"My apologies, Petunia. _Obliviate_."

The great wizard dashed out of the house and casted the strongest Tracking Spell he knew as he came upon the urban street.

"_QUAERO_!" Albus boomed as he pointed the Elder Wand into the night air. Dark blue waves of light whipped out of the point of his wand and swirled around in a spiral, brightening up the dark street. If it weren't for the strong Illusion Charm casted earlier, Aurors would have been alerted to the unnatural amount of magical activity in an otherwise mundanely muggle area.

"How can this be?" Albus murmured. As the light surged around, he was able to interpret its meaning and he was informed of dreadful news. If the light was blue, then that meant that Harry was currently residing in a magical area. The darker it was, the more dangerous the place was. If the light was crooked, bent, or twisted, than that meant that the place was Unplottable, under a Fidelius Charm, or otherwise spelled for the sole purpose of evading detection. And the light was a midnight blue which hideously warped and distorted.

Albus casted another spell to determine whether what type of spell was currently hiding Harry and found, to his utter shock, that the area was Unplottable.

Not wasting a second, he casted more spells, unknown to him and everyone else in the world, in the same way that Harry's herd had casted runes only moments before. Unfortunately for the Headmaster, with every spell utilised, the venerable man's demeanour fell further and further until at last he sunk to his knees, the exhaustion of casting immensely powerful spells sapping his energy, and his face laced despair that the Wizarding World's Saviour was missing.

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Harry whole body stabbed with pain, as if he'd galloped for many miles without rest. With his eyes shut, he felt strangely at peace. The familiar scent of his mother, Aconite, wafting towards him and an automate smile graced his face. The soft cushiony patch of grass of which he lay on, caressed his bare skin. Harry found the will power to open his eyes and take in his surroundings.

"Moons and stars, Harry! You're awake!" A childish voice greeted him.

"Urgh, Burlip," Harry acknowledged groggily, able to recognise the bubbly voice anywhere.

The little centaur mare beamed a toothy grin down back at him and patted Harry's chest reassuringly. She was leaning over Harry in an awkward position as she folded her four legs beneath her.

"Harry Potter! You silly human, you almost scared me to death!" Burlip scolded teasingly.

Before Harry could reply, a cold voice was injected into the scene.

"Yes. You silly _human_. You cost us a sacrifice," Bane sneered, placing a heavy emphasis on the word human. From Harry's low position, the two-metre centaur towered threateningly over the boy.

"Sacrifice? Why am I still a two-legged human? What happened?!" Harry asked as a recollection of the previous night came flooding back to him. Upon seeing that he still retained his two human legs, Harry starting panicking. _The Ritual worked, didn't it? It has to…_ Trying to sit up to confirm that he was still human, Harry felt a familiar warm hand push him back down. "Dad?"

"Stop moving and I'll explain everything," Ronan ordered gently. He too was sitting nearby. With a crackle of magic, Ronan snapped his fingers and rope-like vines emerged from the ground which bound Harry to the ground. The vines slithered out of the grass and fastened onto Harry's ankles, wrists and waist, effectively preventing the boy from moving.

Harry shut his eyes again, unable to comprehend that the ritual he had looked forward to for most of his life, had utterly failed him. But why? His breath quickened with dread and he braced himself of what he was about to learn.

Ronan sighed and started to explain.

"Sixteen seasons ago, the Dark Lord hunted you. In the process, he slew your birth parents."

Harry nodded slowly, this much he knew, having been told of this already. But the next part of information shocked him terribly.

"As you may know, every hunt is ritual. The Dark Lord was performing a great and powerful ritual - the Horcrux Ritual." Ronan ignored Harry's gasp of recognition as he continued on. "Every Ritual involves and affects three things. Do you know what these things are?"

"Yes. Magic, body and soul."

"The Dark Lord performed the Horcrux Ritual on you. He intended to use your life as a sacrifice in order to split his soul. However, his ritual backfired and his body paid the price. The Dark Lord lost his body but due to previous rituals, he retained his presence on this earth. His soul lives on." An Unfocused stare was on Ronan's eyes as he recalled Magorian relaying the same words to him the night he adopted Harry.

"When the Dark Lord's body disappeared, a shred of his soul latched itself onto the nearest living thing. You. Harry, you have a piece of the Dark Lord inside of you."

A whoosh of air was released out of Harry's chest and his eyes glazed over, the weight of the newfound information dawning onto him. He was glad that he was lying down or he may have collapsed on the spot. Had his wrists not been immobilised, he would have attempted to clear out his ears. Perhaps there was something in them that distorted his father words.

As Harry remained silent, his father continued on. "The Centaur Transition failed on you. Even though your magic and body accepted to change, your soul – or rather – _souls_ did not. Be rest assured that the Horcrux in you is not sentient. It is simply hardwired to resist all rituals."

"As soon as we realised this, we had to stop the Centaur Transition or else it might have even killed you. You already know what happens when not every fibre of your being accepts a ritual."

The only movement Harry could perform was a slight nod. It was common knowledge that when a ritual backfires, it causes the victim an excruciating painful death. The Dark Lord's Horcrux Ritual is a prime example of this.

"The only way to stop the Horcrux from affecting the Ritual is to perform sacrificial magic. Your mother used her blood to save you. Her blood magic created a barrier between your own soul and the Horcrux soul piece so that it no longer fought back. For now, it is dormant. "

Harry watched as his father's expression grew more solemn and he unknowingly grasped his father's hand for what little comfort it could bring.

"So I'll never become a centaur?" Harry asked, despair hanging over him. Throughout Harry's short life he had been discriminated by his peers because of his lack of four legs. Even the adults had regarded him as inferior and some never hid their opinion of him. His eyes snapped shut again.

"I cannot answer that Harry," Ronan sighed. "Rituals should have never been disrupted. If they are, then the outcome is most likely not desirable. It is probable that you might find yourself changing into a centaur at random. It may cause you pain. At least, that is my theory."

Harry blinked. A flicker of hope ignited in his chest. That meant that he had a chance of becoming a centaur! Despite the recent situations, a small grin found its way onto his face.

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It was another Hogsmeade weekend. Charlie should be off with his friends enjoying a few butterbeers at Hogs Head or testing out the newest Zonko product – that is in the scenario of Molly returned Charlie a signed permission slip.

Nowadays, it seemed that his mum only had time for the newest Weasley daughter, Ginny, the household menace. The three year old was forever coming out ways to drive Molly insane. Only the other day, a spout of accidental magic occurred whilst her lunch that included unwanted vegetables. Somehow, she had made her tiny little peas grow legs and hop around the table. It took forever to Summon each and every one of the peas and reverse the charm. It didn't help that in their mobile state, they repeatedly scuttled away to avoid capture.

Amongst all the fuss, Molly had momentarily forgotten to sign the 'very important' permission slip and now Charlie was forced to endure the consequences. Arthur definitely couldn't – Ministry work was becoming too overwhelming for him.

So it was with great irritation that Charlie was left behind at Hogwarts with nothing better to do.

Groaning with frustration, Charlie idly kicked a rock around in the garden behind Hagrid's hut. He was in no mood to talk with anyone so he settled with occupying his time nearby the friendly giant until his mood died down to settle for a pleasant conversation.

His gaze wandered regularly to the Forbidden Forest. It had been a habit for him to watch the forest ever since Hagrid mentioned his missing Vipertooth. Although Hagrid was certain that the dragon had left the forest, Charlie couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like to meet it.

A flicker of motion caught his eye. Charlie squinted as saw, to his utter surprise, a golden horse not deep into the forest. 'A baby unicorn!' He thought with excitement, his annoyance disappearing.

Against his better judgement, he charged into the forest, fuelled by his Gryffindor recklessness. The various branches and shrubs did nothing to cease his speed or barricade his way and he only halted when he was reached the immediate vicinity of the unicorn. The boy's breath caught in his throat as he devoured the rare sight.

There was no other human close enough Charlie to be able to wonder why the normally intelligent boy had dashed head first into a forest renowned for its dangerous nature. But if one had to ask, Charlie would have struggled for a reply. He too would have later pondered over his questionable actions.

With its head lowered down, the unicorn quietly grazed in the leafy foliage. As light filtered through the dense canopy, the sun rays lit up the foal, making it sparkle like real gold. The creature was barely a metre high and rose up to Charlie's shoulder but it was a magnificent sight nonetheless. Recalling a particular Care of Magical Creatures lesson with Professor Kettleburn, Charlie brought out a juicy apple, formerly meant for a snack, from his robes. This was not an opportunity to miss. He extended his arm, offering the crunchy fruit to the mystical creature.

As the smell of fruit wafter over, the foal looked up and was startled to find a human boy in its presence before relaxing and naively accepting the treat. Charlie dared not to move as the unicorn turned towards him and plucked the apple from his outstretched fingers.

Certain that the unicorn had accepted his arrival, Charlie gently stroked the unicorn's mane with his free hand, his breath halted over a second over this profoundly rare occurrence.

"Where did you come from? Where are your parents?" He whispered. Unicorns never strayed away of the depth of the forest, much less foals.

In response, the foal jerked his head back from Charlie's hand and glanced at him with fear in its eyes.

"You're lost, huh?" Charlie concluded, still speaking softly as not to frighten the unicorn. "I should bring you to Hagrid, he'll not want to do…" He faltered when he saw the terrified look it gave at the mere mention of the half-giant's name. "...Or maybe not."

Sitting down onto a nearby tree stump, the Gryffindor mused over his options. If he led the foal to Hagrid, then it would run away, for some reason it was terrified at the prospect of meeting the half giant. On the other hand, if Charlie abandoned the unicorn, then it would remain lost and Charlie couldn't deal with that on his conscience.

"I'll see if I can find your parents," He decided. "I must be crazy," He added as an afterthought. "Going deep into the forest? I'm bound to get expelled." But at that moment, Charlie discovered that he wasn't concerned over the rest of his school career. He was only concerned for the unicorn's safety. Any wild creature would find it a tasty meal and hunt the helpless creature. Also, the prospect of meeting a herd full of unicorns couldn't be passed. He knew that if he returned the foal to its parents, then they would accept him too.

Charlie took out his wand and muttered a Point Me spell so that he would keep track of where he was going.

"So… do you have any idea of where your parents are?" He said to the unicorn, sure that it could understand him. After all, according to text books, unicorns were sentient creatures.

But this foal simply looked at him blankly.

Charlie sighed and beckoned the unicorn to follow him as he trudged east, where he hoped the middle of the forest would be.

The foal neighed and trotted after Charlie.

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In a big centaur-inhabited glade, a few centaur mares were gathered about participating in various activities. Some were nursing young centaur suckling while others were teaching the magical properties of herbs to a few yearlings. The males were off on another hunt.

In the dim light of the gathering, Harry was nestled against his mother's chest as his mother tutored him on the language of flowers. The pair sat on a patch of soft dry grass and was surrounded by a diverse array flower species. It was dark but that provided no problem for the nocturnal centaurs.

It did for Harry though. He had to perform a basic centaur spell to summon will-o'-the-wisps. The harmless little critters swarmed together around him and created glowing globes of blue tinted light that provided a suitable a light source for Harry.

"What does an Oxeye daisy represent?" Aconite asked.

"Patience," Harry answered obediently as he twirled said-flower around in his hands. A few petals fluttered to the ground.

"And Buttercup?"

"Riches."

"Hollyhock?"

"Ambition."

"Did you know that Hogwarts has a group of foals who is dedicated to ambition and cunning?"

"Why? That's rather bizarre." Harry said, sitting up. Living within a forest with no outside contact, resulted in him viewing humans as an alien species. Though Harry had heard of Hogwarts, having often glimpsed the magnificent castle from between the trunks of the trees. Some of the other centaurs found the stone building to be disgusting. An abomination to nature. But to the youngsters, it was a strange and curious sight. But it was forbidden for young centaurs to venture into the part of the forest which was close to Hogwarts. The 'Out-of-bounds West' as it was called colloquially.

"I do not know. Humans are strange creatures." His mother answered.

"You can say that again," Harry muttered thoughtfully, considering himself as a... handicapped centaur.

"Why do humans live in buildings?" He asked.

"Humans are frail to the elements of nature. They fear the night, avoid the rain, protect themselves from sunlight-"

"Wow! Like vampires?"

"No, they can get sunburn. A type of rash from being exposed to the sun for too long."

"Why don't they use leaves from Bouncing Bulbs?" Harry said with a matter of fact tone. It was common sense to any half-decent centaur that Bouncing Bulb leaves cured almost any type of rash.

"Humans do not know about the magical properties of Bouncing Bulbs. They are utterly ignorant of Herbology." Aconite scoffed.

Harry grinned, "You just don't like humans, don't you mum?"

"Harry, there's a reason why my name is Aconite."

"That's misanthropy in flower language."

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**Please review!**

**Thanks for your patience. I got caught up in real life. A warning in advance: Updates will be slow.**


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